


Different People, Common Pain

by songquake



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-31
Updated: 2013-01-31
Packaged: 2017-11-27 15:55:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/663819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songquake/pseuds/songquake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Potter has been missing for years. After Andromeda's death, Teddy Remus Lupin goes off in search of his godfather.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. ANDROMEDA TONKS

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2010 Teddy Fest on LiveJournal.  
> Prompt provided by curia_regis: _Having just turned thirty, Teddy meets Harry for the first time._
> 
>  **Warnings/content** : Character death (NOT Teddy or Harry), mental health issues, gay themes, emotastic angst. No sex. Sorry :( 
> 
> **Disclaimers** : _Harry Potter_ belongs to JK Rowling. "Babel fish" is a conceit invented by Douglas Adams for his _Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy_. Title adapted from the song "Family" by Pierce Pettis, 1992, Piercepettissongs.

Andromeda Tonks' yellow-and-grey eyes fixed Teddy Lupin where he stood. The air inside Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place was stuffy, but Nana had insisted that the breeze gave her a chill, even in this summer's heat. 

She looked so fragile, tucked into bed with pillows supporting her head, back, and various limbs to limit the pain. Standard Pain Potions had stopped working months ago, and Andromeda had refused the newer Muggle-magical hybrids, fearful of becoming addicted. 

_Not that it much matters at this point_ , Teddy thought bitterly. _Addiction doesn't much matter at all, does it, when you're dying anyway._

He looked back at his Nana, taking her paper-skinned hand as he sat next to her bed. The yellowed skin was too loose over the back of her hands, wrists, and forearms, a reminder of how much fuller her arms had once been; all her weight seemed concentrated at her distended middle now. There was blood caked under her fingernails; bruises coloured much of her body. The airless room smelled of dried blood; it stained the air even when it was not leaking from her nose and tear ducts. 

_Six millennia of magical thinking, and still no one's come up with an adequate treatment for liver failure._

Andromeda had turned her head to see Teddy at her bedside. Her tongue traced her lips, but her mouth was still too dry to speak. 

"Here, Nana," he said, and reached for the pitcher of coconut juice Kreacher had insisted would be _"better for the Mistress Black than sharp water"_. Teddy also gathered the soft rag they had been using to help Andromeda since she had stopped being able to drink liquids. He dipped the rag into the pitcher, wetting a corner, and brought it to his grandmother's mouth. 

He patted her lips with the rag and offered it for her to suck. She did so and, when she finished, rasped, "More, please?" 

After another suck of the coconut juice, Teddy began to turn to refill the rag, but saw his Nana turn her head minutely. "Do you want some lip potion, Nana?" he asked. 

She tilted her head in a pale imitation of a nod. Teddy used his broad, round index finger to spread the magical balm on her lips. 

Andromeda smiled sadly. "I'm so sorry, Teddy-love," she said, seeming to measure the importance of each word before she spoke it. "You take good care of me."

"Of course, Nana. You're my family. I wish..." Teddy broke off, swallowing back the sensation of his voice about to crack. _I'm not a bloody teenager._ He took a breath to regain his composure. "I just wish there was more I could do. I want to make you better, and I _can't_." 

He was looking down at their hands, and felt more than saw hers twitch, trying to comfort him. 

"Other talents, Ted," she croaked, and tried to swallow again. Teddy brought the rag to her mouth to replace the saliva she didn't make. 

"Teddy, I don't want you to be alone when I've passed," she said. "I haven't done enough to give you the family you need."

"Nana, I have friends, co-workers. I'll be alright, I promise. I'll reach out to Aunt Narcissa and Cousin Draco, as well. I promise," he repeated, running out of words and phrases. "Nana, you don't need to worry about me," he choked, finally unable to suppress the tears in his eyes or his voice. 

Andromeda tried to lift her head, pat his hand. "Hushhhh," she susurrated. "I want to tell you something."

"Yes, Nana?" Teddy asked, gulping back tears again. _I'm supposed to be taking care of_ you _, Nana._

"Your mum and dad, they never wanted you to have just me." She coughed, blood joining the spittle as Teddy held up a hanky. "A family... people who eat together and carry each other's stories. I had some stories. Your godfather was supposed to help take care of you, carry the rest of the stories for you, but he went missing a few years after the War...." 

"Nana, it's okay. I don't need someone who's been gone for almost thirty years to be my parent. You've been parent enough. I'll get on fine," Teddy protested. 

" _Ted_." Somehow, even with this wisp of a voice, Andromeda could demand his attention by speaking with such emphasis. "Your father... Remus was a fine man. You need his stories."

Teddy nodded. Being part-Black, and having only Black relatives available to him, had taught him the importance of learning one's family history, if only to avoid repeating its mistakes. Yet what he knew about his father was limited to that he was a werewolf and a member of the Order of the Phoenix who had fought in both Wars Against Voldemort and died in the Battle of Hogwarts. 

"I can ask, Nana. I'm sure that Kingsley can tell me stories, that older members of the Order – Vickie's grandparents, maybe – can tell me stories."

Andromeda coughed, the air wracking her misshapen body, her face appearing to strain and then give up, going slack as she rested her head on the pillow. Teddy automatically gave her more coconut juice, twice, to ease the dryness that always followed.

Even with her eyes closed, Teddy could see his Nana struggling to hold on, to give him that which she had decided he needed – access to his 'father's stories.' Why she had waited until he was well-grown and she was dying was beyond him. 

But debating such things would only waste the precious words his Nana had left. He stroked her hand as he steadied his breath, which threatened to quicken past the point of helping him be reasonable. "Nana," he said, raising his voice a little so that he would be sure to penetrate the darkness if she were stuck inside it. "You want me to know my stories, all my family's stories. What else did you need to tell me?"

"It was Harry Potter."

It felt as though the information had punched him in the diaphragm, causing a cry of " _What?_ " to leap from his mouth unbidden. 

"Your godfather. He was close to your parents, especially your dad. Ranted and raved when Remus told him he planned to fight, and you not yet born. Loved you in his own way, but..." she gestured for more coconut water, "...he disappeared when you were still small. Never heard from him...."

Teddy took a moment to wipe the tears staining her cheeks pink. "Hush, Nana."

Andromeda fell silent for a few more minutes, seeming to rest. Teddy continued to stroke her hand and clean up the blood and other liquids where they spilled.

"Ted," she said again. "Find him. Eat with him. He can tell you more stories. You have my stories of your mum – he's got your dad's."

Teddy wasn't quite sure what to make of all this, but his Nana was seeming to settle again. "Okay, Nana. I'll see if I can find him. Now let's rest, okay?" He moistened her mouth again and then wiped her brow, pushing back the hair plastered to it. 

"Love, you, Teddy-love...." Andromeda's voice trailed off, consciousness leaving her.

"Love you, too, Nana," Teddy whispered, and continued to tend to her as he listened to the breath rattle through her chest.


	2. DRACO MALFOY

As the small gathering dispersed into the morning sun, Teddy thought he'd be fine if he never had to do a memorial vigil again. The smell of the pyre still lingered in his nose; adding flowers, herbs, and potions ingredients to evoke memories of her could not disguise the scent of her immolation. 

He stood at the path to the stream behind Nana's country house – _my country house, now_ – and shook hands as people said good-bye.

At least only a few people had stayed through the night. Aunt Narcissa, mostly stoic but occasionally convulsing with grief. Draco, tending to her, stiff yet solicitous. His father's Muggle sister, whom Teddy had never before met; he still wasn't sure how she knew when or where to come, and didn't much care. People, he'd heard, would come out of the woodwork for a wedding or a funeral. 

His own supervisor, Kingsley Shacklebolt, had attended the public memorial the night before, which Teddy hadn't expected. The Head Auror was personable enough, and Teddy's mentor, but as far as Teddy knew, Shacklebolt wasn't ever close to his Nana. Hm, there were a number of Weasleys present, too. 

Teddy had forgotten how much war veterans stuck together. His Nana wasn't a veteran exactly, but she had kept a safe house for the Order of the Phoenix. And his parents and grandfather had all perished.... 

Nana had to have been incredibly strong to have even thought, through her grief, of raising a child. 

Then again, she'd once said that caring for him had been her salvation, her only reason to keep going rather than shutting herself away to wither. 

The last of his non-relatives had said good-bye, so Teddy turned to Narcissa and Draco. 

"Thank you two so much for helping me arrange all this," he said, drawing another shaky breath. "I don't know that I would have done properly by her without your help." 

Draco met his eyes and nodded, taking his mother's elbow.

Narcissa raised her head, but her eyes did not seem to take him in. "Of course, Theodore," she said, her sniffing for once an indication of grief rather than snobbery. "We could never let family move beyond without seeing them off the traditional way."

"Of course," he repeated. "But to be frank, I'm pants at all these rituals; they were never Nana's favourite thing. So your guidance really did make it possible to send her off properly." Teddy tried to keep his emotions from wracking his body,

His aunt seemed to notice his struggle and reached out, taking his left hand in both of hers and patting it. "Do call on us if you need anything. Our family has become lamentably small over the years." 

Teddy nodded, and paused. "I do have something I'd like to talk to Draco about. Is there a convenient time for us to meet, cousin?" 

"I'm free the rest of the day," said Draco, looking surprised. Teddy had rather expected this; the two of them had never been close. "Would you care to have a late breakfast with me at the Manor?"

At Teddy's affirmation, Draco took out a Portkey for them to share; it was ill-advised to Apparate whilst mourning, after all. 

They took breakfast in the solarium, which Teddy had always found oppressively airy. His tastes ran to the dark and macabre, which made Grimmauld perfect for him.

_"Theodore Remus Lupin! How many times do I have to tell you that the dungeons are off limits?" Andromeda chastised as she caught a guilty-looking Teddy trying to sneak out of the Manor's "cellar."_

_"But Mrs Scamander said that even when she was living there it wasn't so bad...."_

Teddy wondered whether he'd be remembering conversations with his Nana every other moment for the rest of his life. Folks said that the pain faded with time, but he wasn't sure yet. Especially with the memories and obligations he felt to her and to the Tonks, Black, and Lupin lines. 

He sat back in his wicker chair, cradling his teacup in both hands as a house-elf served him a scone and bangers as he corralled his thoughts toward the topic at hand. 

Draco was looking at him, his eyebrow quirked. "You seem to be brooding, son." 

Teddy snorted at that; Draco had been calling him ' _son_ ' since he'd had his _own_ son, when Teddy was eight. He inhaled, ready to make a snark about his cousin's ( _"He's your first cousin, one generation removed, Teddy. That means he was your mum's cousin, though I don't think they ever met,"_ ) old age, but Draco continued, ignoring the signal. 

"What's on your mind? Do you need help managing the estate?"

Teddy started. "Er, what? ...No, that's not it. Nana has an extraordinarily competent solicitor. I more wanted to talk about something Nana said a few hours before she passed."

Draco leant forward. "I don't know that I'll be able to answer it, Ted; both you and Mother were closer to Aunt Andromeda than I was. I grew up not even allowed to meet her."

"I know, but Draco – it's kind of a question about someone from the War."

Draco paled and inhaled sharply. Teddy winced; he hadn't realised the effect even mentioning the Second War Against Voldemort would have. 

A mere second later Draco Malfoy had composed himself. "What is it you want to know?" Teddy could practically hear the addendum: _"and it better be good."_

Gulping slightly, he spoke. "Nana said that my godfather is Harry Potter and I should find him." 

Draco just stared, looking gobsmacked. 

"And, er... I thought that since you were at Hogwarts together and knew a lot of the same people, you might have heard what happened to him. Or maybe could confirm whether Nana was right."

Both men sat in silence and discomfort for a tedious moment before Draco spoke.

"Ted, you know that I was not on Potter's side in the War."

"Yes, but –" 

Draco held up a hand. "Let me finish. I lived with the Dark Lord for major parts of the last year of the War. I was nearly imprisoned for the attempted murder of Albus Dumbledore and for, well, living with the Dark Lord and 'allowing' him to live. Saint Potter saved both me and Mother from that fate."

Teddy nodded. This much he already knew; all magical children were taught the history of the Wars in both primary and secondary school, and those of Teddy's generation had typically gone home and pestered their parents – or guardian – about what their roles were during that time. Andromeda had been brutally honest. 

"Draco, Nana said that Harry Potter had my father's stories, not you. I don't need to know anything about Mr Potter but where I can find him."

"Teddy," Draco said, impatience edging his voice. "Let me explain. It wasn't just the war. Potter and I had _never_ got on. Even in our first year at Hogwarts, I suppose each of us thought the other a bit too snobbish for words. It never got better, and even when he defended Mother and me, our relationship was hardly more than cordial." 

"So you don't know anything," Teddy said, disappointed. 

"I have no idea whether Andromeda was correct, nor do I know where Potter is staying these days. As she said, he disappeared from the public eye long ago. But I do remember him spending a fair amount of time spoiling and coddling you when you were an infant and toddler. So there very well may be something to what Aunt said." 

Teddy took a deep breath. "Okay. Two questions then: Who might I ask about whether he is my godfather or not and where he is? And, do you know of any spells that would help me find him?"


	3. HERMIONE GRANGER

Teddy took a moment to steady himself before climbing the steps to knock on the door of Number One, Philosophic Alley. He had felt the privacy wards give way as he passed through them; he wondered how it was that Hermione Granger-Weasley, of all people, could know his magical signature. In any event, it meant that there could be no turning back now, nor time to case the building for secondary exits. Teddy's Auror training had taught him enough that he _always_ was able – through Magical or Muggle means – to find safe shortcuts and hiding places. It had done him well, especially since there were occasionally idiots who wanted to harass him because of his parents' sacrifice and his werewolf heritage. 

Not that he'd ever exhibited any signs of lycanthropy, but idiots are idiots. They will always make trouble. 

Today, he was a bit more wary than usual, since the subject of his interview had _insisted_ on meeting at her home rather than on neutral ground such as a library or pub. In the Corps, they usually treated such invitations as traps. 

Nodding, and promising himself that he would keep half an eye roving for any plausible retreat paths, Teddy Remus Lupin knocked upon the door.

A young man with unruly auburn hair answered. "Hey," he said sullenly.

_Oh, to have the luxury of being safe and sullen,_ Teddy thought. 

"Hi. Hugo? I'm Teddy Lupin – I've met you before, but not for rather a long time... I wouldn't expect you to remember me..."

"No, I remember. You broke Cousin Victoire's heart and then started banging blokes, from what I've heard. And when she brought you to family events – hell, do you know how much of an _honour_ it is to be included as part of the family? – you would do ridiculous things with your face and your hair." Hugo's eyes travelled up to the top of Teddy's head, taking in the shaggy sandy hair with streaks of bubble-gum pink in it. 

Teddy had thought it might remind Ms Granger-Weasley of his parents. Apparently, it just made him seem like a show-off. He sighed in resignation. It probably had as much to do with Hugo being eight years younger and never having a chance to know him at Hogwarts.

"I've been invited to visit with your mum, Hugo. Would you please let her know I've arrived?"

Hugo snorted. "She already knows. I reckon she just doesn't think you _important_ enough –"

"Hugo Arthur Weasley, you had better not be saying what it sounds like!" The firm, no-nonsense voice of a mother who'd had Quite Enough of her adult offspring's rudeness came floating from the back of the house. A woman with an overwhelmingly large ponytail attractively streaked with silver followed the voice down the corridor. She was wearing a ratty T-shirt and dirt-smudged denim cut-offs, on which she wiped her hands before sticking one out to shake Teddy's. 

She paused. "Excuse me, that would be nearly as rude as what I'm sure my derelict son was about to say," she said, and cast a quick _Scourgify_ on her hands before offering a handshake for the second time. Teddy took it. 

"Thanks for seeing me, Ms Granger-Weasley."

"Oh, please, Teddy, I've known you since you were born. Call me Hermione, for heaven's sake." 

"Alright. Hermione." Though _he_ had never really known _her_. 

"And thanks for coming here, Ted. I'm sorry to be such a mess, but all my nightshades need to be transplanted, and today was the only day available before they started strangling one another and the other plants. Plus, we're better protected in terms of privacy than we would be somewhere in public." 

Teddy nodded, and followed Hermione into the kitchen, where she washed her hands up to her elbows and put a kettle on for tea. There was still a smudge of dirt to the right of her nose. Teddy decided to ignore it for the minute. 

Placing a plate of tinned biscuits in front of Teddy, Hermione sat beside him. "So, what's on your mind, Teddy Lupin? I must admit, I was rather surprised to receive an owl from you after all these years." 

"Well, you know that my Nana crossed to the other side last week. Thanks for coming to the memorial, by the way."

Hermione waved her hand dismissively. "Of course I did. I was rather fond of her, though we were never close," she said. 

"Right. So. On the night she passed, she made what felt like a sort of deathbed confession and asked me to follow up. And so that's what I'm doing." Teddy sighed, relieved to get it out.

After a moment, Hermione gave a light chuckle and rose to pour the hot water and gather the tea service, which she brought to the table as well. 

"You'll need to tell me what she told you and what you're trying to do if you want me to help, Teddy."

_Yes. Right._ "Sorry. What Nana said was that even without her I would have family, because I have a living godparent. And that he could tell me the stories about my parents, my father, that she hadn't known."

Hermione nodded, pursing her lips as though she knew what was coming next and was bracing herself. 

Teddy took courage from that, oddly enough. It was good to know that she found this just as awkward as he did. He persevered. "She said that my godfather is Harry Potter, but I've no idea whether that is even true or whether he would even want to meet me. He hasn't exactly been there for me, you know." 

"And you came to me because you knew Ron and I were Harry's best friends?"

"No. I owled you because my cousin Draco said you were the person most likely to know how to find him. He didn't say why."

"Oh," Hermione chuckled. "Yes, that sounds like the Draco we all know and love."

"Er – what?"

"Just that even after the war, Draco wanted as little to do with the three of us as possible. But he wouldn't lie about us, either." 

"Oh," said Teddy, bemused. 

"Not that he's ever been a friend of mine; I oughtn't to make generalisations about him."

Teddy nodded again, then recalled his purpose. "So you know how to get in touch with Harry Potter, then?"

"Oh," Hermione said, a wistful cast coming over her face. "Sorry. No, I don't."

"But you were one of his best friends! And the stories and histories make it sound like you lot – you and Harry Potter and Ron Weasley – were thick as thieves back then!"

"Of course we were thick as thieves back then, Teddy. We were teenage soldiers of sorts, and there was a war on. Don't you remember Hogwarts? Young people get awful cliquish; that's their way. And they think it will last forever." 

Teddy sighed and slumped in his seat. "What happened, then?"

"We fell out of touch, as young people do when they no longer live together or near one another. Harry and I finished our NEWTs the year following the Battle of Hogwarts, and then I came back to London to work on my Mastery. We all thought Harry would be an Auror, but he said he was, excuse the language, 'bloody sick of that shite.' Instead he wanted to travel the world. He'd not been able to visit very many places, between his upbringing and the War. Ron and I thought it would be good for him."

"So that's it? He just started to wander and never came back?"

"No, not quite. He'd go to a new country, send us – and you, I believe – post cards by owl or Muggle post. He would always be back for Christmas and our birthdays. Spend the springs helping Ron and George out and staying with you and Andromeda at Grimmauld. But every time he went out in public, he was, well, _accosted_ is likely the best word for it."

Teddy thought he remembered seeing some odd postcards from an 'Uncle Harry' addressed to him from the States and some tropical islands or something when he went through one of the scrapbooks his Nana had kept from his childhood a few years back. He'd asked, but Nana had said that Uncle Harry had gone missing when Teddy was still wee and hadn't been heard from in a good number of years. She'd left it at that, and Teddy hadn't had enough interest to pursue it. He wished now that he had.

"So he ran away," Teddy said flatly. 

Hermione looked at him with a mother's bloody sympathy. "It wasn't so much running away as it was finding a place where he could just _be_ , Teddy. That's all. And by that time, Ron and I weren't terribly close to him anymore – we hadn't fallen out so much as just fallen out of touch, like I said. I'd have him back in a minute, but my life isn't so much suffering without him." 

"And no more letters?"

"None of us was that good a correspondent after awhile. Harry had moved on, and so had we. I think the last postcard we had was from northern Europe somewhere... from about twenty-five years ago, too. If you like, I could go up to the attic and fetch it so you can see."

"Yes, please." Hermione headed up the stairs, and Teddy took a moment to think about the whole situation. Clearly, Harry Potter had lost interest in him before he'd lost interest in his friends; he would remember if he'd been getting post from _Harry Potter_ when he was in primary school. And in that case, Harry Potter had _chosen_ to drop out of the lives of Andromeda Tonks and Teddy Remus Lupin. 

So why the fuck had Nana been so insistent that Teddy find his godfather and make nice with him? Or at least inform him of her passing; Teddy wasn't even sure what she'd wanted, quite. 

When Hermione came back down the stairs, she saw the grim look on Teddy's face. "Here," she said, holding out the post card. "You can keep it as long as you like." 

Standing, Teddy spoke in a rough voice. "Thanks," he said, and followed her back to the front door.

He Apparated home and went to Grimmauld's attic to search for the scrapbooks from his infancy.


	4. KINGSLEY SHACKLEBOLT

"Auror Shacklebolt, sir, I need to request permission to extend my bereavement leave."

Kingsley Shacklebolt, Head Auror in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement looked up to see his protégé, Teddy Lupin, standing awkwardly at the door, an administrative form in his hand. 

"Come in, Lupin. Shut the door behind you," Kingsley said, surmising from Teddy's stance that this was not a run-of-the-mill request. 

And indeed it wasn't. In his two years of Auror training (after a year off for travel, of course; Andromeda Tonks was particularly prickly about making sure her grandson had every opportunity her daughter had not) and nine years in the Corps, Teddy had never sought any sort of special treatment. Not based on his parentage, not based on his close relationship with Kingsley. He had figured out that he was largely singled out already because Kingsley had been close to his mum; he didn't need any more favours that he hadn't earned, thank-you-very-much. 

Teddy took his customary seat across from Kingsley, slouching – a behaviour uncharacteristic for an elite Auror. 

"All right, son?" Kingsley asked. 

"No. Not 'all right', actually." Teddy started to relax, grateful that he was finally with someone with whom he could speak frankly. He hoped.

Kingsley took in Teddy's posture, his haggard face, the way he clutched his paperwork, the way the knuckles on his wand hand were bruised. "That much is obvious. I have to say, Ted, that if you had come in to work in this condition, I'd have sent you right to St Dymphna's for an evaluation."

 _Great, I look like a nutter._ Teddy resolved to do a better job at cleaning himself up, or at least making sure that he used his Metamorphmagus abilities to get rid of the obvious signs of his recent tantrums. Right. "And what's preventing you from doing that now, sir?" he asked, his voice betraying his resignation: he would not be allowed to escape into work. 

"You're not trying to work. It means you've still got a good head on your shoulders, despite the, ah, extravagance of your grief." 

"It's not my grief that's extravagant," Teddy said flatly. 

Kingsley chuckled softly, appreciating the other man's blunt manner. "Care to tell me what it is, then? And why you've decided to extend your leave even though you didn't realise how poorly you were doing?" 

Teddy's answering sigh was nothing if not long-suffering. "On her deathbed, Nana requested that I go on a wild goose chase," he said. 

"What did she have in mind for you to chase?" 

"More of a _whom_. My godfather. Who apparently is none other than Harry Potter." 

Kingsley Shacklebolt, who had just taken a sip of his coffee, coughed and sputtered, and sprayed some of that coffee onto the papers on his desk. 

Teddy handed him a hanky. He'd bought a whole set of new ones the day of the memorial. 

"Yes, _that_ Harry Potter. Who also apparently disappeared and hasn't been heard from in twenty-five years or so."

Kingsley hummed. "That sounds about right." 

"Sorry?" Teddy said, confused. "Oh, you knew him. Right." 

"Not well. But if my memory serves, the last time he was in town was around 2001, and he was terribly hounded by the media and his adoring public. Not to mention his not-so-adoring public."

"Oh."

"Yes. And about a year later, the Ministry started calling for investigations as to Harry Potter's whereabouts. Which, of course, made him decide to be even harder to find. He started only communicating with Ms Granger-Weasley, and then only through the Muggle post."

Teddy paused to think about that. He'd been four by then. If he hadn't seen 'Uncle Harry' since he'd been three years old, of course he wouldn't remember him or feel sad when he didn't receive a postcard. 

"Do you reckon that what Nana said is true? About him being my godfather?"

This time, Kingsley paused. "It's definitely possible. You can go to the Hall of Family Records to see whether he and your parents had a formal ceremony to name him your godfather. My guess is they didn't, though; nobody saw much of Harry that last year of the war." 

"Were they really that close, though?" 

"Ah... I think both your father and Harry wished they were. Your dad was the last of Harry's parents' close friends. I'd known them, mostly your mum, actually, but couldn't get too close because I was already head of the Auror Department then. But Harry was close to Remus; he looked to your father as a father-figure, or maybe uncle." Kingsley chuckled. "Harry didn't think he was particularly special, but he was more likely than most to speak of Remus. He often reminded us, vehemently, that your father was the best DADA teacher Hogwarts had during Harry's time as a student. I would bet that Severus Snape gave Remus a run for his money there, but Harry never really trusted Severus. And 'people like Severus' didn't need as much of his support as werewolves did, in his opinion."

"That doesn't sound like enough to go on when choosing a godparent for your _child_ , though. I mean, did they even spend that much time together?" 

Kingsley sighed. "Oh, probably as much time as either of them spent with anyone – your mum and the Weasley-Grangers excluded, of course. You have to understand: neither Remus nor Harry had any family to speak of at that point. I imagine that naming Harry godfather to you was a way to try to claim him as part of Remus' family, and Harry's acceptance of this was the same. Remus was the only one left who held many stories of Harry's parents other than their roles in the First War, and Harry was Remus' connection to the memories of Lily, James, and Sirius."

 _Oh._ "That was why Nana was so stuck on my getting in touch with Harry – so I could learn the family stories." 

"Not too surprising," agreed Kingsley. Then he cleared his throat, his signal that the subject was about to change. "Do you even have a starting point?" 

Teddy had known that question was coming and was grateful, as the question gave him the opening to request access to Auror resources in his search. "Actually, yes. It's not much, but Ms Weasley-Granger gave me the last postcard she received from Mr Potter. It's rather old, but the postmark is intact. My plan is to go out to the town it was mailed from and see if I can pick up the very old trail from there." 

"Good luck with that," Kingsley said dryly. "It _is_ a wild goose chase, isn't it?" 

Teddy rolled his eyes with good humour. "It certainly is. And I was wondering – "

"Of course you can use Auror records and forensic tools. Just don't do anything illegal in whatever jurisdiction you're in. I'll write you a letter of introduction as well, so you can use the resources at other MLE offices." Kingsley waved his wand and " _Write letter for TRL_ " appeared on the chalkboard that hosted his to-do list as well as his notes about case allocation. "I must say, it _is_ fortunate that Ms Granger-Weasley had something, old as it was. I wouldn't have been able to let you use our more advanced location charms without a Wizangamot order. And then you would have been responsible to them whenever you found something out."

"Yeah, it is fortunate," Teddy said, grinning. "Thanks, boss, I appreciate it." 

Kingsley chuckled at Teddy's Americanism. "No problem," he responded. "Just make sure you take care of yourself. And if the clues point to the Bermuda Triangle, for Merlin's sake check in with me before you go."


	5. DANKAERT THE REGISTRAR

Just as he and Kingsley had expected, the Antwerp postmark had yielded the postal code of the town from which Harry Potter had mailed the card. _4040 Geel, Belgium_. In the _Province_ of Antwerp. Apparently Belgium was large enough to have Provinces.

Teddy's copy of _An Auror's Guide to Belgium_ (pilfered from the Auror Library for International Cooperation) had this to say:

>   
> _Geel (sometimes spelled 'Gheel') is another of the many towns in Flemish Belgium largely exempt from the International Statute of Secrecy due to the full integration of Magical and Muggle populations, and interdependence thereof, prior to the 1692 Treaty. It was incorporated as a city according to Muggle customs in the 1980s ._
> 
> _Geel is best known for what Muggles consider its revolutionary approach to Mind-Healing: full inclusion of the barmy with the sane. This has occurred for two reasons._
> 
> _The first reason is that, as an integrated town, Geel was hospitable to Muggle-born wizards and witches whose families accused them of hallucinations or demon possession. In fact, Geel is currently home to one of the few schools of witchcraft and wizardry to specialise in educating Muggle-born and Muggle-raised magical children._
> 
> _The secondary reason is that, when confronted with magical_ or _non-magical cases of actual insanity, the population decided long ago not to ostracise them but to assist them in adjusting to the 'reality' available to their kind. To aid in this, townspeople would (and still do) foster patients who are deemed stable enough to live outside a sanatorium without causing harm to themselves or others. Geel also houses an in-patient 'psychiatric centre' for those too dangerous to care for themselves for a time. Because of the very town's focus on mental hygiene, it is home to quite the cadre of Muggle and magical Mind-Healers. These dedicated individuals assist both the psychiatric patients released into the community and any other residents of the town who might need temporary mental, magical, or spiritual support._
> 
> _The local psychiatric institution is named for Dymphna of Clogher (known amongst Muggles as St Dymphna), who is believed to have spent her last days in the nearby wilds. Some Muggles believe it is St Dymphna's blessing which 'cures' or 'redeems' the mentally infirm who come to this town. For reasons unknown, locals tend to encourage this belief._
> 
> _Aurors should take note that crime in this area is almost disturbingly absent. Furthermore, any crimes there tend to be solved even more quickly than normal magic can explain. For those reasons, the Belgian and International Departments of Magical Law Enforcement are rarely called upon to assist this population. Indeed, it is a poorly-kept secret that Geelish constables are more likely to be called to help their counterparts in greater Antwerp than the other way around._  
> 

So Teddy's godfather had at least _visited_ this town of brightly-painted homes and shops amid the rolling hills of the low country. And, his being Harry Potter and all, someone would likely remember him if he'd stayed here long enough to drop the glamour Teddy was sure he travelled with.

For his own part, Teddy had again taken on features closer to his parents' than his own; his face appeared to be constructed by a Muggle cubist who liked to throw random features together. His hazel eyes were sharpened to a golden amber and hooded by a slight ridge at his brow, his button-nose more upturned than was becoming for a gentleman, and hair grown in the same mix of sandy, grey and pink he'd shown Ms Granger-Weasley. 

He was going to be recognisable as his parents' kin, damn it. 

He wondered whether he should wear his scarlet Auror's robes, whether the townspeople would be more likely to provide information if they thought he were there on official business.

He decided to pack them just in case. 

_Okay, Theodore Lupin. Review again: you are looking for your long-lost godfather, who just_ happens _to be Harry Potter, so as to notify him of Nana's – Andromeda Tonks' – passing, per her last wishes. You do not expect, do not_ want _a relationship with The Man Who Lived Again. He has been good as dead to Wizarding Britain and naught but a fairy-story for your generation. He has no claim on you, nor you on him._

These were Teddy's thoughts as the train from Antwerp to Geel pulled into the station. He swallowed, trying to shake his Babel fish into a more comfortable position inside his ear canal. He hoped he would be speaking with enough people to keep it well-fed. 

In the tiny rail station a sign reading 'Welcome to Geel' in Dutch, German, French, and English hung from a desk. Above the desk a sign read, 'Guests, Please Register Here' in all the same languages. 

Walking up to the desk, Teddy said to the person behind it, "Hi. I reckon I need to register here, and not at the police station?" 

"Aye," came the response from the registrar. 'Dankaert,' according to his nametag. Teddy winced at the Babel fish's archaic sense of English as Dankaert held out his hand for Teddy's papers. 

"Are ye visitin' or are ye movin' in?"

"Visiting," Teddy replied, a bit off-balance.

"For touring, business, or family?" 

"Family, I guess."

The registrar's eyes lit up. "Ye gots family 'ere? By George! They know ye comin'? Most family come down to th'station to meet their kin."

Teddy knew he was in for it now. The last place Harry Potter was known to have been _would_ be a tiny town in which everyone was into everyone else's business and discretion would be near-impossible.

"Er, no. He doesn't know I'm coming. And I don't know that I'm _properly_ family, given that my parents never recorded him as my godfather."

"Ach, godchildren's kin, sure enow. When's the last time ye seen 'im?"

"When I was three – Geel's the last place he wrote from, a few years later. I'm not even sure he's still here."

"Hm. Could be sticky," Dankaert remarked. "'E another Brit like you?"

Teddy nodded. "Harry Potter, to be specific. You know whether he's still around?" 

Dankaert stared warily at him. "Only folks ever come looking for 'im are press, an' he don' hold much wi' them. Why are ye comin' for the lad now?"

_Goodness. I wonder whether he's that protective of everyone round here._

"I need to let him know of someone's passing," Teddy hedged. "Sort of a deathbed request." _At least I know he's here or somewhere nearby._ "I really don't mean to trouble him much. Just need to deliver the news in person, and then if he wants I'll be on my way." _And back to what life I have now that Nana's gone._

Dankaert laughed at that. "A more generous soul ye'll nae meet, lad!" he crowed. "Don' be tellin' me ye've took a room by the inn, too?" 

Teddy knit his brow. Surely the town registrar wasn't assuming he'd be _staying_ with Harry Potter. The man had dropped out of his life, for Merlin's sake, and had made no effort at being a godparent all these years, no matter what the photos and letters from Teddy's wee years – or the dulcet memories of his Nana and Hermione Granger-Weasley – implied. 

"Of course I let a room," Teddy replied testily. "I didn't even know whether he was here!" His voice was rising. He really shouldn't yell at Dankaert. The man was in no way responsible for Teddy's inner turmoil. He sighed. "I'm sorry for snapping at you. I reckon I'm wound overly tight right now." 

The registrar nodded. "Tis understandable," he said as he finally stamped Teddy's passbook. "You go by Theodore?" 

Teddy snorted. "No. Teddy or Ted."

"Well, young Teddy, how's aboo' this? Ye go on, settle in, and take a ramble in the town, and I'll Floo Mr Potter when he gets off work to let him know ye be in the town. What time's ye like to sup?" 

"Er… half-eight." 

"Hm. Mi' be a bi' late for 'im, but he'd at least stop for a puddin'. Right. Be in the pub next to the inn at half-eight and either he or I'll be there." 

Teddy let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "Thanks, Dankaert," he said. "But don't go to too much trouble on my account. I reckon I could do research at Provincial Records if need be." 

"'Tisn't a trouble. An' ye _really_ don' wanta be goin' to the Records Office. It's a right disaster – has been from near on 500 years now." 

Teddy raised surprised eyebrows at Dankaert. "I appreciate it all the more, then. Thank you for all your help and hospitality." 

"'Tis the work of the right-minded, lad. The work of the right-minded."


	6. HARRY POTTER

Teddy had to admit the town was lovely. He visited the St Amand Church as well as the chapel to St Dymphna before walking further down the road to see where the school was. 

He marvelled that the grounds to the school looked to be across the very road from the grounds to the psychiatric centre, and that the two looked so much alike: each had a large central building made of stone, with a series of brightly-coloured houses encircling it. The school had a few extra amenities, of course, such as instructional greenhouses, magical creature paddocks, and a Quidditch pitch complete with stands and changing/storage hut. But the psychiatric centre seemed to have similar buildings, if in smaller proportions. 

The hospital appeared to serve as a farm as well as a place to heal the mind. Teddy could see a pumpkin patch, various sorts of edible nightshades, and what looked to be a field of beets. An orchard was planted to the west, and he could spy both a chicken coop and a cow pasture. It looked like the mental hospital could meet any dietary needs, so long as the population wasn't hoping for bread or cereal. 

Teddy wondered what Muggle-borns arriving for their first year of magical education made of the similarities between their school and the sanatorium across the road, or whether they even knew what it was. 

Walking back into town along the High Street, Teddy admired the small shops – old-fashioned cobblers, robe shops alongside Muggle clothing boutiques, a variety of food purveyors, and a good number of cosy restaurants and cafes. 

At 6:30 in the evening, Teddy returned to the inn to freshen up before his supper with Harry Potter. _I really didn't pack for meeting over a meal_ , he thought, frowning. Dress robes, had he even brought them, would be too much. Muggle denims seemed a bit too casual for acquainting oneself with one's ridiculously famous godfather. 

Finally deciding to transfigure his blue jeans into black ones and wear his soft sage-green cotton button-down shirt, Teddy stepped into his en suite for a hot shower. The hot water cascading over his shoulders and down his back was a poor substitute for a lover, but served to relax him well enough to face the upcoming meal. 

He looked at himself in the mirror as he combed his hair. He could leave the stubble; while he wanted Mr Potter to recognise him as the offspring of his parents, he didn't want to appear _too_ young. Or too straight – he would keep the row of earrings on his left ear and the single stud on his right. Though that was as likely to mark him as a punk... Well. He was a punk, in the most classic sense, and Potter could just deal with that. He'd leave off the kohl, though. This was a dinner, not a club date. 

Just before the appointed time, Teddy strolled next door and ordered up a bottle of red for the two of them to share. As the bottle appeared with two glasses, so did a middle-aged man with short-cropped black hair, glasses, and a lightning-bolt scar above his right eye. Teddy couldn't help but notice that the man was fit, as well.

"As I live and breathe," the man said. "Teddy Lupin. Am I glad Dankaert was right."

Teddy stood. "And that would make you Mr Potter," he said as he held his hand out for a shake. 

As Harry Potter took it he shook his head as well. "Please, do call me Harry," he said. "That's who I always was to you as a kid. Uncle Harry, though I don't reckon you would feel comfortable with that honorific at this point." 

"No," Teddy responded coolly. "Not so much."

"You look rather different than I'd expected," Harry said. He dug out a rumpled picture of a somewhat scrawnier, messier self holding Teddy on a broomstick as the blue-haired toddler grinned and reached for a Snitch fluttering around their heads. "Merlin, that was a long time ago." 

Teddy nodded. "It was."

The shortness of his response caught Harry's attention. He ran a hand through his hair. "I gather you didn't decide on your own to find me."

"No," said Teddy. "I'd rather forgotten about you, actually." He watched Harry wince. _Do you need to cover your awkwardness by being mean?_ he asked himself. _No._ "That is, Nana didn't talk about you, so I didn't know you were closer to my parents than just serving together in the Order of the Phoenix."

Harry's cheeks ballooned out as he exhaled slowly. "So what brings you to Geel, then? The Ministry send you to bring back the wayward hero?" 

"No." Teddy took his own deep breath. "Er, Nana told me that you were my godfather and suggested I contact you to learn my father's stories. Fairly insisted I make contact with you as my 'family,' in fact."

Harry brightened a bit. "Really? How is 'Dromeda, anyway?" 

"Dead," Teddy said flatly. "Liver failure. She told me about you the night she passed through the Veil." He closed his eyes for a moment; when he opened them, he saw that Harry had likewise closed his, tears leaking out of each. 

"I'm sorry; I was generally pants with the notifications, but most of those who knew her knew she was on her way out." He looked directly at Harry. "Nana especially wanted me to come meet you after she passed. She asked me to, that last night with her." 

Harry breathed sharply through his nose and opened red eyes to look at Teddy again. "I'm so sorry, Teddy. I'm so sorry for your loss, and that I didn't come back to see her before she passed." 

"Well, you couldn't have known," the younger man said, trying to be diplomatic. 

Harry snorted. "Indeed. Because I was long gone and had made no effort to keep in touch," he said, touches of bitterness and self-recrimination in his voice. 

Teddy nodded. "Yes."

"Nice of you to give me some reassurance," Harry said sardonically as he poured wine into each glass.

"Just trying to be agreeable," Teddy returned. Then he sighed. "Look, I don't know you, and you haven't given me any reason to want to know you. I've been...put out is putting it mildly. Angry that you left us and didn't care to stay in touch with me, your godson." Teddy took a large sip of the wine in his glass. "Nana wanted me to reach out to you, though, because you're my only family left aside from Aunt Narcissa and Cousin Draco, and you carry stories of my parents that she didn't. So I came." 

"And what do you want now, Teddy? Abject apologies? Grovelling? Bedtime stories? Because I honestly don't know what to do here."

"Well, I don't know either!" 

Harry looked at him with sad eyes. "I reckon that neither of us grew up with a standard model of family relationships, not growing up with siblings or parents – and yes, I know that Andromeda was a wonderful grandmother. But I've heard that the closer the relation is, the more one has to work at the relationship. Neither of us grew up with many to practice that with, and we don't have a foundation of it between ourselves, either." 

Teddy nodded. He felt tired in his bones. 

"I have work tomorrow, but only until one o'clock. Would you care to meet me then, have a lunch, and then I can show you around a bit?" Harry asked. 

"Sure," said Teddy. "And... I'm, er, sorry for being so testy with you tonight. It's been a very long year, and learning that I had a godparent was rather a shock in itself." 

He could practically hear Harry grinding his teeth. 

"I understand," the older man said. "I didn't know about my own godfather until I was thirteen, myself." He paused. "That was one of the things your dad told me. One of the reasons I loved him." 

Teddy exhaled loudly. Again. _My breathing is becoming a language unto itself these days,_ he thought. "Thanks for sharing that. I hope we can have a more civil, peaceful conversation tomorrow. When we've both got used to the idea of one another." He watched as Harry nodded. "By the way, where do you work? Should I meet you there?" 

"I work at the School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," Harry replied. "You can get there by – "

"Following the High Street. I know; I walked there this afternoon. Do you teach?"

"Yes. Comprehensive Dark Arts curriculum, including Ethics and Physical Defence." 

Teddy raised an eyebrow. _That is certainly different from the Hogwarts curriculum._

Harry chuckled. "I can see your surprise. Well, here in Geel we take seriously the idea that fearing something increases its power, just as fearing a name increases the fear of the thing itself. So we work to demystify everything and give our children a good foundation for making moral decisions with what information they have or learn." 

"That makes sense," admitted Teddy, embarrassed that he'd jumped to unfavourable conclusions about the curriculum. 

"But we can speak more on that tomorrow," Harry returned. "Right now I think I ought to get home and get some rest." He stood.

"You're not going to stay for a bite to eat?" Teddy asked, hoping that he sounded inviting even though he was about done with talking to this stranger. 

"No, you'll have to survive without me. I'll see you tomorrow, though. Meet me at the school's gate at one o'clock, and I'll bring a picnic so we can get to know one another better. Maybe we can take a ramble about the woods as well." 

"Alright, then," Teddy said, and nodded his farewell as Harry turned towards the door.


	7. NYMPHADORA TONKS

The cool yet warming breeze blew through Teddy's fringe as he made his way up the road to the Geel Comprehensive School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. _Odd how the climate itself can seem optimistic,_ he thought as he watched tulips in various stages of bloom and decadence sway in the draft. He could swear that they were mocking him with their unabashed, wanton displays of sensuality. 

He snorted at his own train of thought. _Some homo you are, feeling taunted by the yonic displays of the flowers!_

That was, of course, the rub: in the three years of caring for his ailing grandmother, his sex life had taken a definite back seat, to the point of existing mostly in fantasies, porn, and the allusions to eroticism that nature gave him. No matter how inappropriate to his own tastes.

He'd decided to bring a bottle of wine and glasses, as well as fresh biscuits from a bakery at the corner of Stationstrasse and Heistrasse. It seemed strange to be embarking on a picnic with nothing in hand. Besides, he did enjoy the Belgian sweets he'd consumed over the past two days. 

Due to his stops en route, Teddy discovered Harry already waiting at the gate when he arrived at the school. 

"Glad you could make it," the professor said. "I was worried you'd got lost wandering around old Geel." 

"No, I've a good map," Teddy returned. "And the fact that Dutch and English have so many cognates certainly helps!"

Harry knit his brow. "Really? I found Dutch terribly confusing when I was learning it. Even in terms of the street names. About a quarter of the time I could figure out the English from the Dutch, but so much of it is then related to German or French in a way that looks or _sounds_ English." He shook his head. "Then again, perhaps you are fluent in one of those languages. I shouldn't presume." 

"Well, since I was travelling up the Stationstraat and then taking the High Street from the inn, I thought it was pretty simple to translate. Even took out the Babel fish, since it likes to speak as if it lives in the highlands." 

Harry laughed. "First, the Babel fish isn't speaking like that because it wants to; you've probably been talking to folks who speak a rather old-fashioned version of Dutch – like Dankaert, yeah? So the Babel fish is approximating what that sort of English would be if you heard it. The breed that grows around here is known for that – differentiating between 'modern' and 'old-fashioned' language, especially if the speaker is aware of which he speaks. Which, I assure you, Dankaert is. He thinks it enchants the tourists or something."

"Oh. Okay, that totally makes sense. I haven't done much travelling for work – Kingsley likes to keep me close to home – so I haven't used them much."

"The other thing is that 'Heistrasse' comes closer to 'Health Street' than 'High Street.' I believe it's named that because of this little neighbourhood." Harry gestured across the road to the Psychiatric Institute and back and then paused. He must have seen Teddy's face redden from embarrassment, because he quickly changed the subject. "You're an Auror, then? I had planned to become one, though I reckon teaching fits my temperament better." Harry smiled wistfully.

Teddy nodded. "Yeah. I guess that I'd always wanted to become one, follow in my mother's footsteps and all."

"What did your grandmother think of that?"

"She wasn't that thrilled about it, honestly," Teddy responded. "But I'm very careful and she doesn't –didn't – have all that much to worry about, especially since Kingsley's always paired me with top-notch older Aurors." 

"He's taken quite a shine to you, has he?" Harry asked quietly.

Teddy shrugged. "I did well at the Academy," he said. "And he worked with my parents. I'm just glad that my parents weren't the reason I got into the Academy to begin with. The Hogwarts professors, those who knew my father, said I inherited his sense of purpose in studying. Also his sense of balance."

Harry laughed out loud. "Not so clumsy, then?" 

"No. Was my mother _really_ that clumsy? Nana kind of exaggerated – but I never knew whether she was making my mother out to be better or worse than she was." Teddy remembered how exasperated he would get when Nana started telling stories about 'dear Nymphadora.' Who apparently hadn't let anyone, including her parents, call her by her full given name. Not that Teddy could blame her. He was grateful to have been named for his Muggleborn grandfather.

"I'm not sure whether it was lack of coordination or attention, but she did tend to walk into things a fair bit and knock stuff down. Called herself 'dead clumsy' the day I met her. She was a damn good flier, though. Twice she was part of a rescue party for me."

"Twice?" The Battle of the Seven Harrys was legendary of course, well-known for its strategic plays by both sides, but he'd not heard of a second time Harry Potter had needed a group effort to rescue him. Well, at least not one involving flying. 

"Yeah. The first time was the summer after Voldemort returned. My cousin and I'd got attacked by Dementors, and the Ministry was on its way to collect my wand and possibly haul me off to jail for casting my Patronus – "

"Wait, what? Dementors outside of Azkaban? And wouldn't defence against them be an exception to the Decree for Reasonable Restriction on Underage Magic?" 

"One would think," Harry replied dryly. "But that year the ministry was intent on shutting me up about anything that didn't fit into their squeaky-clean narrative of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Anyway, your mum was one of the so-called 'advance guard' that came to whisk me away to safety from Surrey."

He had heard the stories, but to listen to them traipsing nonchalantly off the tongue of their main character felt a bit surreal to Teddy. To know that his mother had taken part in rescuing The Boy Who Lived was something else entirely. She'd always seemed a bit in the background when it came to the official war histories. But she didn't seem like a sideline character to Harry Potter. 

Teddy realised that Harry had continued describing his mum and he was _missing it_. "...clever, too. Could give any member of the order a run for his money when talking strategy. I reckon that's the reason Mad-Eye loved her so much."

"Er, Mad-Eye?" 

"Oh. Auror Moody. Alastor Moody. He died in the war, actually in the battle above Privet Drive. He was called Mad-Eye because he'd lost an eye and a leg somewhere along the line and replaced the eye with a magical prosthesis that spun around in his head. Used to clean it in glasses of water," Harry said with a grimace, and Teddy wondered what it was like, seeing an elder perform personal care tasks when you worked with them. The personal tasks he'd been helping – had helped Nana with did not, of course, count. 

"Moody would even clean that eye at the dinner table, can you imagine. It was pretty ballsy of him to do that, what with Molly in charge of food and table manners, especially since even Ron and I thought it was rather nasty to see." Harry paused again. "But yeah. Mad-Eye really liked Tonks, er, your mum. I think he mentored her in the way Kingsley does you. Didn't let her get away with anything dangerous, but was pretty amused by her antics so long as she maintained CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" Harry roared, banging on the fencepost. The sudden noise made Teddy jump. 

"Sorry, mate," Harry said. "Didn't mean to frighten you. It's just that Mad-Eye was known to shout that phrase every time we gathered and parted. We all – my generation, which I suppose included your mum, even though she was seven years older than the folks in Hogwarts – laughed about it and did impressions of him. Didn't mean the lesson didn't sink in, though. Mostly."

How could this man who spoke so freely be the same one who'd just up and left and not contacted his own family, his godson, his friends, for twenty-five years? Teddy tried to reach for the anger and the bitterness he'd been nursing since he'd learned of Potter's relationship to him, but it had shrunk rather a lot. 

Harry held a Fanta can out to Teddy. "Portkey, if that's not too unpredictable for you," he said. "I've never felt very comfortable with them myself, but it's less unpleasant than Side-Along, and you'd have to trust me to take you somewhere safe either way." 

Teddy nodded. "Where are you taking me?" he asked, so as not to be a total fool. 

"I thought we could take a ramble through the woods and visit the stream that, according to legend, Dymphna bathed in. It's not terribly far from here, but it's a good enough distance that we'd be tired out by walking and probably forego the hike." 

"Fair enough," Teddy said, holding his hand out for the can. 

Harry gave a bit of a rakish grin. "Excellent," he said as he pointed his wand at the erstwhile Portkey. " _Portus_!"

Teddy felt the familiar tug behind his navel and braced himself for landing. Out of habit, he closed his eyes. When he opened them, he was facing a wooded area with a well-trod path. Before the path there was yet a patch of open space – tall grass and wildflowers filled it. Likely bugs as well. 

Rather than continuing to walk when they landed, Harry stopped short, grabbing Teddy's forearm so he stopped short, too. "Do you want to go into the forest, or would you prefer to eat out here?" he asked, his arm sweeping to indicate the small meadow. 

"I'm a bit peckish, actually," Teddy confessed. "And I'm sure you must be as well, having taught into the afternoon. Is there a special place to eat in the woods?"

Harry shook his head. "I did want to show you it, though. This is the path to the grotto where Dymphna used to bathe, according to Muggle legend. They say that standing in or drinking that water cures insanity."

"I take it that's not true?" 

"Nope!" Harry chortled, as if there were an in-joke between them. "But I wanted to show you why they would think that." Maybe he wanted to _make_ it an in-joke.

Teddy took yet another deep breath, communicating that he needed to think. After a moment, he asked, "Could we eat here and then walk into the woods?" 

The decision made, the two of them cooperated to spread the blanket Harry had packed, and then a whole assortment of finger sandwiches, fruits, tea, cheese and crackers. "I know it's rather light," Harry said, "but I hate rambling on a very full stomach." He took a bite of a cucumber sandwich. "An' it'th pretty woff either weh." He swallowed. "Sorry about that. It's pretty rough either way."

"Yeah, I got that," Teddy replied. "I've got the manners of a troll, according to my cousin Draco." 

A brief shadow passed across Harry's face, but he shook it off. "Are he and Mrs Malfoy well, then?" he asked. 

Teddy realised that just as Harry was his link to his past, he was Harry's link to present-day magical England. "Yes – they're both living in the Manor, along with Draco's wife. And Scorpius, too – that's their son – before he went to Hogwarts and then got a flat in Diagon Alley with Rose Weasley." He snorted, thinking of Draco's reaction when Scorpius and Rose had started dating. "Draco was only moderately apoplectic about it." 

"Because of their age, or because Rose is a Weasley?" Harry asked suspiciously. 

Teddy stared at him. "Well, mostly because they were _just_ out of Hogwarts. But also because Draco and Rose's dad don't get on much. He likes her mum, though." He paused. "So do I. I don't know her terribly well, of course – she apparently was around more when I was a small child. But she's always very warm, and she did give me what help she could when I decided to follow Nana's instructions."

"About finding me?" Harry's voice was low, almost quiet as a whisper.

Gathering his courage, Teddy responded. "Yeah. She gave me the last postcard you'd sent her. It was postmarked from Geel. Terrible hassle to try to track you down, you realise." _Tell him you almost didn't look. He deserves to know how much you are hurt that he didn't care enough to have a relationship with you._ "Which I reckon is what you wanted. Still, it would have been nice to have had an address." Teddy raised his eyes from his plate, where his hands had been shredding a spare bit of salad. "It would have been nice to know you were family," he said, pain evident in his voice.

"Yeah," Harry said. He was turning pink, but didn't look like he was likely to elaborate on his response. "But your grandmother probably did the right thing, keeping you from remembering and missing me too much." He stood, and began gathering the foodstuffs back into the basket. "Let's keep going. We can talk while we ramble and have a snack when we get to the clearing near the Lourdes grotto." 

"Lourdes grotto?" Teddy asked, his heart sinking with the realisation that Harry Potter was not willing to take responsibility for abandoning his godchild. 

Harry hummed. "Some gentleman in the nineteenth century fancied that Dymphna's spring was somehow like Lourdes in France. Even though the faithful had been making pilgrimages to it for hundreds of years before the so-called miracle at Lourdes happened." 

Teddy vaguely remembered learning in the Auror course on the History of Magical Law about how Apparating before young Muggles and saying strange things was a fad for a time amongst teenage witches and wizards, and that it was this fad that led to the term 'Muggle-baiting' being coined. "Ah," he said, and put the untouched wine and glasses, as well as the biscuits, back into his rucksack. 

"Let's go," said Harry as he ambled toward the dirt path into the woods. 

"This bit of forest has mostly been preserved so that the city can continue to bring in the Muggle tourists," Harry said. "I've seen photos from before the War, and town was much smaller, much less industrial then. It used to be very pretty." 

"What?" Teddy asked. He had passed a large, warehouse-looking structure near the rail station, but he'd hardly call the town he'd seen so far _industrial_. 

"Teddy Lupin. You _did_ explore a bit more than just the city centre, didn't you?"

Teddy glared at the back of Harry's head as the two continued up an incline. "I got out to your school, did I not?"

Harry laughed. "But Heistrasse is still relatively historical. I meant, did you get out of the historical district to see how wizards and Muggles share the city _now_?"

Oh. "No," Teddy confessed. "I mostly looked round the area near the hotel and over by the Dimpnakirk. I mean, I noticed the car parks for the tourists. But I rather thought that it was a rather small town, not a city, really. That's how the Auror Guide described it." 

"Shows you how often they update the guides, then," Harry said with a derisive snort. "Then again, Geel, while very welcoming, does try to keep a low profile, especially with the international magical community."

"Oh? Why is that?"

Harry shrugged. "The usual." He glanced back at his godson. "The less we're noticed, the less the risk that we'll be forced into compliance with the International Statute of Secrecy. We do like living with our local Muggles."

"So different from wizarding England," murmured Teddy. 

"Yeah. It was brilliant, actually, to be able to walk around the city without having to worry about blending in with one community or another." 

Teddy could see that. "Especially if the magical people weren't as pesky as the ones in the UK, I'd imagine." A few yards later he thought to ask, "Is that why you decided to stay? Ms Granger-Weasley gave me the impression that you'd been rather itinerant, and that you might still be." 

Harry huffed. "I'd like to wait until we're at the clearing to talk about that, if it's quite alright." 

"Whatever." Teddy was about fed up with Harry's evasions and half-stories by this point. It seemed that all the stories he was willing to tell were about before Teddy had been born; it seemed that Harry was not terribly interested in Teddy himself. He wondered why Harry had suggested this particular activity, anyway. 

His tone must have caught Harry's attention, for the man stopped and turned round. 

"Teddy," he said. "I'm sorry; I don't mean to be short with you. It's just," he ran his hand through his hair again, "it's awkward, yeah? I haven't seen you since you were very small, and I realise that I don't know you even though I should. So I feel guilty, and I don't know what to do, and I wanted to get to the clearing and sit and have any difficult conversations there, when we don't need to watch where we're putting our feet in order not to fall down." He laid a hand on Teddy's shoulder. "I do _want_ us to get to know each other, I think, but there's basic stuff that I think we ought to be seated for."

Taken aback, Teddy reached up and squeezed the hand gripping him. "Okay. I've been a bit on-edge myself since arriving." He removed his hand, and Harry's dropped as well. "Thanks for the explanation, though. I reckon that we've a lot to sort out when we finally get to the clearing." 

The two of them continued to walk, climb, and jump along the path. _This might be a path leading toward a cure for the insane, but one would have to hope that the insane were all nimble!_ The trail had certainly seen better days; brambles and low branches stretched across it, and the occasional mossy boulder had to be navigated as well. Harry used his wand to cut through the bush when absolutely necessary, but repeatedly mumbled "Take nothing but pictures, leave nothing but footprints," as he evaluated each obstacle. 

"Don't come here much, do you?" asked Teddy.

"Hm?" Harry responded from where he was clearing some waist-high nettles. "Oh. No, I come to the clearing often, but I usually _Apparate_ in. I do love the rambling, though."

Teddy thought he wouldn't have minded being Side-Alonged to the clearing. 

Finally Harry pushed through a bit of brush and held it back for Teddy to climb through. On the other side was a meadow – and Teddy quickly understood why Harry had repeatedly referred to it as "the clearing." As he entered he could feel the tension lift from his body as a thick fog might lift from the Highlands, giving way to sunshine. All confusion and potential dishonour left his mind as well.


	8. DYMPHNA OF CLOGHER

On the other side of the sweet-smelling glade he could hear a stream somersaulting past. 

"Oh, Harry," he said. "This is lovely. What is it?"

Harry smiled shyly, and was he _blushing_? He was, plain as the nose on his face. "It's the clearing. It's the reason Muggles thought the spring could grant sanity. They'd enter the water from the other side," he gestured across the stream to a lower bank that was easily accessible by a better-cleared path, "and feel the effects of the spell." 

"Sorry?" 

"Right," said Harry. "You've felt it, but wouldn't recognise it. Dymphna of Clougher – or her campanion; it's impossible to say – appears to have cast a forgotten sort of Permanent Clarity Charm on this meadow and the spring nearby. The lingering effects of the charm allow those suffering delusions, depressions, or other mental problems to have some relief. It also allows them to retain the memory of what they thought _during_ that period of relief, so that they can use it as a touchstone whilst regaining their faculties through talk-therapy and reintegration." 

Teddy's mind boggled at the information. "So it's true, then, what the Muggles think? That dipping into the water can cure mental illness?" 

"Well, not _quite_ cure, but yes. The Muggle legend grew because while their Church could not tolerate a story about an honourable witch who left something useful behind, it _could_ make use of a saint, particularly a virgin martyr, who did the same." Harry re-opened the picnic basket. "Come, let's spread the blanket again and have a seat." 

Once they were lounging with wine and biscuits, Harry looked intensely at Teddy's face. "Is that what you _really_ look like?" he asked. "Only, it's so different from how I thought you'd grow up." 

Teddy shook his head, laughing. "No. Give me a mo' to fix it." He resettled his nose and brow, adjusted his eye colour back to hazel, and shortened his hair to the more modern, spiked look he favoured. Finally, he disposed with the appalling colour scheme he'd chosen for his hair and allowed it to return to his trademark deep turquoise with hints of indigo. 

Harry let out a low whistle. "You know, you're quite fit this way. Why on earth did you change your appearance?" 

"Er, because I thought it would be easier for you to believe that I was my parents' son if I looked more like them." 

"Oh. Oh, no. I like you looking like you do now." Harry coughed. "A grown-up version of the boy I took broomstick-riding." 

Teddy felt himself reddening a bit at the unintended double-entendre. Was his godfather flirting with him now? If so, how wrong would it be for Teddy to encourage him?

_Fairly wrong_ , he thought. Thank goodness for the Clarity Charm.

"Thanks," he said, hoping that a simple response would defuse the situation. _Because the last thing I need right now is another complication in my life._ He searched for something to say. "Ah, you were going to tell me how you came to stay in Geel – you said you would when we got here." 

"Yes," Harry said. "What did the women in our lives tell you about when I left?" 

"Not much," Teddy said. "That you wanted the chance to travel, and that you were _accosted_ " – Teddy gave the same emphasis Ms Granger-Weasley had to the word – "every time you appeared in public in the United Kingdom. That eventually contact just fell off." 

Harry was nodding. "That's a really fair account from their point of view. It does miss a bit, and I've always reckoned that Hermione suspected what it does, so I'll tell you that part." 

He shifted so that he was leaning back on one elbow, legs stretched out before him. "I did travel a lot – visited the States, Africa, Asia. Other parts of Europe. Mostly, though, I had to travel in disguise, under a Glamour or Polyjuice. Otherwise, people tended to badger me more than other tourists for photographs, autographs, and stories. It seemed that my fame preceded me, even if it wasn't near the pitch it was in Britain.

"Meanwhile, I was pretty traumatised by my experiences; I didn't really trust anyone. I'd broken up with Ginny Weasley – Ron's sister – because I was gay, but also because I was so damn unstable that I was afraid I'd set fire to her in one of our arguments."

Teddy's eyes widened. Nobody had mentioned _that_ to him. 

"I was so out-of-control of my magic that I didn't feel it was really safe for you to be around me unless I was totally relaxed. 'Dromeda had already agreed to look after you whilst I grew up a bit more and was very understanding when I explained this limitation. She'd wanted me to live at Grimmauld Place with the two of you, but..." He broke off, and seemed to redirect his thoughts. "See, it was a Black property, but Sirius – my own godfather, right? – had left it to me when he died in the war.

"Unfortunately, that old house was too full of memories. It had some booby-traps that took _forever_ to get sorted, and in the meanwhile I was jumping at every single one. So when I was in town, or in England, rather, I stayed with Ron or Hermione. Both, once they started living together.

"And I was getting bombarded with requests for funding, endorsements, appearances. People didn't know how to leave me alone, and I was terrible at rejecting people and their causes, especially if the cause seemed good." At Teddy's raised eyebrow he added, "Oh, I learned _to_ say no, but too often it was followed by 'you fucking wanker' or 'you bloody cow.' Mix and match your insulting nouns and adjectives at will. I couldn't manage controlling my magic, my commitments, and my words all at the same time. 

"Over time, I lost control more and more, had persistent nightmares that triggered accidental magic, flashbacks to certain parts of the war, and a sort of malingering low-level depression. I became angrier and angrier at the people I loved who had died, since if I had chosen to live rather than die at Voldemort's hand, why hadn't they? And all these things that had been sort of muttering questions in my mind grew into consuming obsessions."

"That sounds terrible," said Teddy, horrified at what he was hearing. "Was there anything that helped?" 

"Booze," Harry said flatly, and saluted Teddy with his wine glass. "Though I never really became an addict. I preferred extreme flying, running distance, and playing with you until I was too tired to think. Actually, I think having you to play with really saved me that last spring; when I was with you, or with Bill and Fleur's girl, I couldn't be distracted by thinking of myself. I could only pay attention to you."

Teddy thought of the rumpled picture Harry had shown him the night before. _He had looked happy in it. I didn't even notice any wildness in his eyes._ And Teddy would know, having been trained to look for it even when shopping in Diagon. "You kept us safe," he said, realising how much effort that must have taken.

"Of course!" Harry looked surprised. "Teddy, I _always_ want to keep the people I love safe. I would much rather go it alone than risk seeing the people I care about hurt or, in this case, hurting them myself." 

"Oh," said Teddy. "I mean, I'd reckon most people would want to keep those they love safe. I just... hadn't applied that logic to you, I guess. Since what I knew of you, really, was from the official histories and occasional comments from Nana or other veterans around." _Not to mention that I have no recollection of that love._

"Yes, those _would_ tend to leave out the emotional wringer we were put through," Harry said dryly. Then his voice grew earnest. "Listen, Teddy, I want you to know that even before you were born, I wanted what was best for you. I did. I told your father not to name me godfather, because that would be like preparing for him and Tonks to die, and I didn't want them both going off into battle and leaving you an orphan. I couldn't bear to think of them risking that on purpose –leaving you to be raised by Merlin-knows-who. Like I was," he finished. "It just about killed me when I saw them laid out in the Great Hall. Both because I loved them a lot and because I knew that it left you parentless. And I'd always wanted parents so much." 

Teddy examined his hands, his eyes burning. He'd sometimes felt angry at his parents, both going into battle and leaving him alone. But he hadn't ever said. And now, hearing Harry Potter say he'd asked them not to, he felt the familiar bitterness rise up within him. "So they knew what they were doing, and they got themselves killed anyway," he said quietly, a subtle edge to his voice. 

He felt Harry's warm hands around his. "Ted," Harry said, "they loved you. They stayed out of the fray for most of that last year. Remus came to battle believing that Tonks was going to stay home and protect you; Tonks decided that since the Order had called for every body to come to Hogwarts, you needed her to protect your future more than your present. She _did_ ," Harry insisted, squeezing Teddy's hands and running his thumbs along their backs. "'Dromeda told me that she tried to convince Tonks not to go, but that Tonks said, 'Mum, what if I'm the difference between You-Know-Who and Harry winning?'" 

Tears were flowing down Teddy's face now; Harry withdrew a handkerchief from his pocket and used it to wipe away the tears on his cheeks, around his eyes. "Take it," he said, allowing Teddy to blow his nose. "And, er, you can keep it, too," he added, wrinkling his nose a bit. 

That made Teddy laugh. It was, perhaps, a bit hysterical, but the strangeness of bodily disgust in the midst of a conversation about battle and death.... It was just a little too ironic. 

"Thanks, Harry," he said, " for both the hanky and the story. I wish I'd known them."

Harry nodded. "I wish you'd done, too. They were truly remarkable people. Funny, smart... Remus was one of the kindest, most generous people I knew, and my favourite teacher when I was at Hogwarts." 

"Really?" Teddy drew his face up to look at Harry's. "What did he teach?" 

"You seriously don't know." Harry looked gobsmacked. "He taught Defence Against the Dark Arts. Only for one year, of course; the position was cursed so long as Voldemort was around. Plus there was the bit when his being a werewolf was publicised..." Harry paused. "None of those traits emerged in you, right? Only that was one of Remus' greatest fears: that you'd suffer like he did from lycanthropy, even if it were mild. When you were three, you hadn't any symptoms. I'd never have left you at all if you had."

"You wouldn't," Teddy said dubiously. 

"I wouldn't," Harry insisted, "even though it would have put me at risk of blowing my top and injuring people. I would have thrown all my weight, such as it was, behind the effort to pass the Remus J. Lupin Werewolf Reintegration Reforms. But not having anyone I was personally all that worried about – Bill was doing fine by then – I just sent my letter of endorsement."

"It didn't pass until my second year at Hogwarts." 

Harry winced. "I'm sorry. It probably would have passed sooner had I actively campaigned for it. And there were so many infected during the War; that Greyback was a menace. But at the time... I really thought, knew, even, that I needed to be here instead." 

He took a deep breath. "And I promised to tell you about that." 

"You did," Teddy replied. 

"Right. So. I was receiving all sorts of requests for things, when I received an owl soliciting a donation and possibly publicity for a mental health centre, an in-patient one. The ward at St Mungo's simply couldn't handle all the need that there was with post-traumatic stress, depression, anxiety, and such after the war. So some Mind Healers and influential friends of theirs were trying to open a hospital just for that." 

"St Dymphna's," Teddy said, thinking of the ward hidden behind a soothing bed and breakfast across the way from St Mungo's. The one that Aurors half-jokingly referred to when one of their colleagues seemed closer-than-comfortable to the breaking point.

"They were able to build it, then?" Harry asked, and Ted nodded. "Good. It was, is, very much needed. Problem was, _I_ needed it right then. So I gave a large donation, but begged off any publicity. 

"And now I had an idea: I should seek out some help for my psyche. Mind-Healing. I did _not_ want to go to St Mungo's, though, even though they'd have kept me as private as possible. It's just too impossible, I think, for British wizards and witches to see me without thinking of me as the Boy-Who-Lived-Twice. 

"I'd not heard of any other centres for Mind-Healing, though, and I wasn't quite willing to admit to anyone, including Ron and Hermione, that I needed such powerful help. Hermione would have hectored me until I went to St Mungo's, and I was truly unwilling to go there. So I held back, but started doing some research about both magical and Muggle treatments of mental illness, programs that had good reputations. And finally, on a whim, I looked up St Dymphna. 

"You know that there are many mental institutions named for her and prayer services to say novenas to her? Not only that, but pretty much every source I read on Dymphna pointed back to Geel and its fostering system."

Teddy's eyes widened. "Are you being fostered, then?" he asked. He should have foreseen this; it ought to have been obvious from the beginning of the story onward. 

Harry chuckled. "Not anymore," he said. "But yes, when I came here, I voluntarily committed myself to the psychiatric institute for treatment of my depression, delusions, and extreme anxiety." He inhaled. "And sexual confusion, though my Mind-Healers did eventually convince me that my homosexuality was natural rather than trauma-induced." 

"Wow," Teddy exhaled. "I can't imagine being in a place where I thought that my attraction to blokes was in reaction to something other than how fit they are." 

Harry's eyebrows shot up at that. He said nothing about the comment, however.

"I sent the postcard to Hermione the day before I checked in. I spent three months inside, first coming to the Clearing with a counsellor to talk about my rage and grief, and then learning to control my anger and magic again. By the time I was released into the care of the Speckstadts – that's Dankaert's family, actually – I was able to get through a day without melting anything. My psychiatrist and therapist thought it would help a lot if I could learn how to have what they call 'family attachments.' And it was safe for me to do so at that point; I could look after the Speckstadt children without fearing for their safety. I could teach them to read, and basic flying skills, and I could follow a normal schedule."

"That's great, Harry. It sounds like you made a lot of progress."

"Yeah." Harry looked pensive. "But I rather immersed myself in this new life. My therapists have, through the years, encouraged me to make connections with folks I used to know in Britain. To link up my history with who I've become. But, well, you know I didn't."

Teddy nodded. "Yeah, I'd kind of noticed." 

"I'm sorry, Ted. It really wasn't fair of me to disappear on you. I reckoned that my friends in England would accept that we'd just fallen out of touch; I didn't think of the effect it might have on a kid like you." 

"Augh!" exclaimed Teddy. "Do you realise how narcissistic you sound?" The glade really was taking away his sense of holding back 'important information.' "I was doing _fine_ until Nana told me to go find you. Yeah, it might have been nice to have you around, but my life wasn't missing anything without you." 

All his anger had come rushing back. "I grew up to be an Auror, a responsible grandson, an able investigator. I did all this without knowing you. In fact, the only difficulties you've caused me have been since Nana died and I had to find _out_ that you'd abandoned us!" He looked up hotly.

Harry's posture had crumpled; his head was tucked into his lap. When he looked up, Teddy could see his face. It held more pain than Teddy had known he could inflict. 

"I – I'm sorry, Ted," he stuttered. "I thought that you'd come to find me because you missed having a godfather, and that you'd wanted some sort of father-figure." He gasped in a large breath. "But that was my issue, not yours." 

Well, _that_ image made Teddy feel awful. "I'm sorry, too," he said. "That was harsh of me. My life might have been a lot easier if I'd had you around."

"Or it mightn't have done," Harry said. "Having me there might have caused the press to hound you as well and made your life miserable." He took a breath and accepted a clean serviette from Teddy. "But not having your godparent there to take care of you didn't hurt you the way it did me, and I need to remember that." 

"Can you tell me about that, Harry?" Teddy asked softly.

"You know my parents were killed when I was a baby, right?" As Teddy nodded, he continued. "Yeah, it's how I got marked as Voldemort's equal," he gestured to the lightning-bolt scar. "Then my own godfather, Sirius Black – he would have been your first cousin, two generations removed, I think – was accused of murdering a whole bunch of Muggles and sent to Azkaban. I didn't know about him at all until I was thirteen and he had broken out of prison to look for me.

"Since my parents were dead and my godfather sort of terminally unavailable, I was left to be brought up by my aunt and uncle. And I think this is part of the official history, but maybe not. They were... neglectful would be putting it kindly. Abusive, more like. Tried to drum the magic out of me and punished me when it escaped anyway. So I, ah, have always had some negative associations with my use of magic, especially accidental magic. I reckon I hadn't grown out of it by the time I defeated Voldemort. Control was too important – I couldn't risk losing control of my mind to him, of my magic to him or to myself. I needed to control my emotions, my reactions, what I said to people. And nobody ever really got it, not even my best friends. Because if I said that I thought I could lose control, then _I_ became a menace, see?"

Teddy did. 

"But that's a right digression, it is. Augh," he ran both hands through his hair, one after another, this time. "At least being in this clearing helps me see that, helps me remember to get back on track."

"You don't need to tell me everything today, Harry," Teddy said, feeling awkward. He wanted to know, he _really_ wanted to know, but he didn't think that causing Harry to revisit his pain would do either of them much good at the minute. 

"No," Harry responded. "It's important that I tell you this. Right. So I was raised by magic-hating Muggles, and I really saw my Hogwarts letter as my salvation, my rescue from that miserable house in Surrey.

"When it turned out that Sirius was innocent and he reconciled with Lupin – er, your dad – I thought I could join him at Grimmauld for the long haul. There were already amazing protections on that house, plus a load of people spending summer there. Christmas in my fifth year, I got to leave Hogwarts and go visit my godfather," he said wistfully. "My best Christmas." 

"Really?" asked Teddy. "You've not had better Christmases since?" 

Harry shook his head. "I've never been the _most_ special person to anyone since that one year," he said. "I've ah, been rather a wash with the blokes. Awkward, shy, you know the drill. Unwilling to go to the trade bars or drink when I've gone clubbing – don't want to lose control, after all," he said ironically, "so it's hard to meet men." He sighed. "I've had a couple of relationships, but they've not worked out for the long term."

Teddy thought about that for a moment. It wasn't as though he'd been any more successful with the lads, but he was confident that his day, his bloke, would come. Er, yes. And he'd always been the 'most special' to his Nana at the holidays, and she to him. He'd never realised how much that itself was a gift. 

"And even when I was living with the Speckstadts, I was with them, loved and cared for, but not as tightly bound to them as they were to one another." Harry sighed. "So yes, that Christmas when I was fifteen was incredibly special to me. And then Sirius was knocked through the Veil that spring. And I, well, lost it.

"I completely tore apart the Headmaster's office in my raging grief. With my hands as well as with my magic. I just wanted to destroy everything in sight as thoroughly as my hopes for a pleasant life had been destroyed. I wanted to do damage to the people who had kept secrets from me, and to the people who made it seem like I had no adults on my side. And I reckon I was angry at Sirius, too, for being another adult who disappeared forever. Even though I couldn't remember my parents or any of their friends from when I was a tot.

Teddy could hear what Harry wasn't saying: _And that's why I feel so guilty for doing the same thing to you, Ted._

"Merlin, Harry," Teddy said and paused for a moment to gather the right words. "Thanks for sharing all of that with me. You're right; your attitude does make a lot more sense to me now that I know more about your background."

Harry 'hmmed' his agreement. 

"And you're also right that my life wasn't at all like that, even though some of the details are the same. Nana was very good to me, and I got to spend some time with my cousin and aunt, which I have heard was only possible because you won the war and they helped, however tardily. I made friends with relative ease, though there was jealousy amongst my peers about my Metamorphmagus abilities when we were in primary school and teasing when we were at Hogwarts. I reckon that's just a normal part of growing up, though."

Harry smiled ruefully. "I wouldn't know about normal, but that's what I hear."

"I was telling the truth last night. I came because Nana wanted me to have the opportunity to learn more stories about my parents than she could tell. And I get the feeling that you've even more you can tell me." He looked directly at Harry. "I've only really got my stories, Nana's, and Draco's right now. But if you stay here and we keep in touch – which I would really like, Harry – I can find you stories about your friends and colleagues, other vets..." 

"Teddy," Harry said. "You don't need to go out and find stories to trade with me now." 

Teddy reddened; he hadn't realised what his offer had sounded like, how desperate it made him appear.

Harry continued, "I'm glad that you want to keep in touch, though. I'd really like to get to know _you_ , hear _your_ stories." He touched Teddy's chin, raising the younger man's face so that they could see one another's eyes. "As for the rest of my friends, if I want to know their stories, I'll have to be Gryffindor enough to make the effort of contact." 

Harry lightly stroked Teddy's neck before he drew his hand away. Teddy closed his eyes and swallowed. He could feel something start to burn slowly in his lower gut.

"That sounds like a capital plan, Harry," he whispered. "After I leave for England, we can still write?" 

"I'm counting on it," Harry said, a mischievous look in his eye. "I'll also have to visit, and soon. Your dad left me all his papers – letters, journals, certificates. I can tell you stories about what I remember of him, and stories that he and Sirius had told me about their Hogwarts days, but it might be more meaningful to read about that stuff in his own words, yeah?"

Teddy was gobsmacked. Totally gobsmacked. "I'd no idea that those even _existed_ ," he said. "I don't think Nana did, either."

"She knew right after your parents were killed, but I don't think that it was as important to her as to me – because I knew Remus better."

"I'd love to see them, Harry," Teddy said, still a little dazed. 

Harry reached over again, ruffling Teddy's hair. "No, Ted. I'm going to give them to you. I haven't missed them much, these past twenty-whatever years that they've been in my London Gringotts vault. They're yours, properly, in any event."

"Thanks, Harry." Teddy paused. "Er, Harry?" 

"Yeah, Ted?"

_We're in a meadow with a Permanent Clearness Charm. I wouldn't be thinking this was happening if it weren't._ He took a gulp of wine -- _Dutch courage!_ he thought semi-hysterically – and a huge breath.

"We're – we've been flirting," Teddy blurted. _Smooth, Lupin, smooth._ "And I'm... not sure what to make of that."

Harry's flush started at his ears at the word 'flirting,' but rushed across his face so that his whole face was red by the end of Teddy's statement. He squeezed his lips in a straight line, forming an expression somewhat more thoughtful than a grimace. 

"We have," he concurred. "It _is_ weird, isn't it?"

Teddy nodded. The two men sat in silence in the clearing, considering this mutual confession. 

"I think, at least for me," Teddy said finally, "it's weird mostly because I think it _ought_ to be weird. You aren't supposed to fancy your godfather. Or, er, godson." 

"Right." Harry's face was getting closer to the shade Teddy had got used to seeing it in. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make things awkward. I know I've been the one sort of pushing the flirtation on you."

Teddy chuckled softly. "Which would be awkward enough had I not returned the feelings." _That sounded not-quite-right,_ he realised. He caught Harry's gaze. "How much of it do you figure is legitimate attraction rather than opportunity?"

"Hard to say," Harry responded. "It's true that neither of us has had the chance to meet blokes in a while – at least, I'm assuming you haven’t, since you asked the question."

"No, I've spent the past several years taking care of Nana."

Harry looked at him with a tender expression. "Oh, Ted. Her death must have wrecked you."

"Not... Well. I suppose I haven't taken proper time to grieve, really. I sort of channelled all my energy after the memorial into finding you." 

"Hm." Harry nodded. "All right, this is what I think. Clearly," he chuckled, "we find one another fit and interesting. And I like touching you. But now is probably not the right time –"

"To start a relationship. Yeah," Teddy finished. "Plus we live rather far apart."

"Indeed. So, you need to take the time to grieve, and I ought to see whether I'd just given up on dating or whether there really _aren't_ any fanciable blokes round here."

"And if there are, you'll write me off?" Teddy asked, hurt that he might be considered a 'last resort.'

"Blimey, Ted, no! If there aren't, I'll just have to evaluate my attraction to you more closely. Well, I'll have to evaluate it more closely in any event." He shrugged. "But that's what therapy is for."

Teddy nodded. 

"You might want to try it, actually."

"What, therapy?" 

Harry nodded. "Yeah. I bet that St Mungo's or Dymphna's could set you up with grief counselling or something. And for figuring this stuff out." He paused, examining Teddy's face. "Or not. You don't have to do anything. It's only that I have found psychotherapy to be very beneficial. I'm rather an evangelist for it." 

Teddy cracked a smile at that. "So... How will this 'evaluation' proceed, then?" he asked in a voice half-teasing.

"We-ell, I'd have to hear more about you," Harry started. "We'd need to start writing. Sadly, I can't afford too much International Floo Powder on my salary..."

"Harry Potter. Do you not have the majority of the Black estate plus whatever it is your parents left you?"

"Caught me out, didn't you? Okay. I don't think _you_ can afford too much International Floo Powder."

Teddy huffed. "Well, why don't we say that we'll arrange a Floo-call if and when owling does not seem like enough contact."

Harry laughed. "Fine! And I'll certainly make a visit this summer while school is out. Stay a week or two, get to spend more time with you. I'll get to start trying to repair my other friendships as well." He nodded to himself. "Yes. That's a plan."

"It certainly is," replied Teddy. "Now, since we're still here, and I haven't heard _nearly_ enough about my father, could you tell me some stories about the two of you together?" 

Grinning, Harry said, "Sure, Teddy. 

"I met your father on the first day of Hogwarts, my third year. My friends and I were late on the train, and the only compartment available was one with him in it. He looked pretty rough, actually..."


	9. EPILOGUE

>   
> Harry Potter  
> Holvenseheide 12  
> 4040 Geel, BELGIUM 
> 
> _8th September, 2028_
> 
> _Dear Harry –_
> 
> _I hope you and the kids are settling well into the term. The new class of recruits is in at the Auror Academy, and Kingsley has prevailed upon me to tutor a few of them in Physical Defence, in addition to Concealment and Stealth & Tracking. Taking after my dad again, I reckon; all accounts say that my mum was pants at stealth. But you and I know that I can manage that, and am an expert tracker, besides! _
> 
> _I miss you. It seems like it's been much longer than the five weeks it's been since you left London. I'm really glad I got to be with you for your birthday, though. Thanks for sharing it with me. I've been, well, "treasuring" the memory, so to speak._
> 
> _I continue to work my way through Dad's journals. Of course, I'd started with the first time he mentioned my mum, but now I'm going back to when he was at Hogwarts. Damn, my dad was smart! As were his friends. "Moony, Wormfoot, Padfoot & Prongs." That Marauders' Map was a terribly clever bit of magic. Like you suggested, I tried ordering the Map to open without using the passphrase, and you wouldn't believe the things it said... Well, perhaps you would; you did know all of them (yes, including your father, even though you don't much remember him). Plus you've the advantage of having read all of the diaries. But I believe Messr Potter made a crack about not believing that "Moony could get it up for a bird." And Messr Black bellowed at my dad, well as much as one can bellow across a piece of parchment, and my dad seemed just plain confused and curious. "Who is your mother?" he asked, and when I told him, all four of the Marauders basically said "Euuuggh." _
> 
> _It seems that my mum was still a toddler when they finished the Map._
> 
> _I've got some great news. Well, I think it's great, we'll have to see what you think. You know how we promised before you left London that we'd be one another's "most special" this Christmas?_
> 
> _Well, if you're willing, I've made it possible for us to be one another's "most special" the rest of the time, too. I just handed Kingsley my resignation, effective 20th December. Just as soon as term ends for the Auror Cadets._
> 
> _Merlin, I hope this doesn't come across as sappy and impulsive; you have no idea how much I've agonised over this decision, how hard it is to make such a huge one without benefit of the Clearing! I reckon it is sappy, but I can't much help it. I care too much about you, and want to make up for the time we never got together. _
> 
> _Not that I'm trying to push you into reclaiming that "godfather" role with me. No, no, no desire for that! I've no interest in your "correcting" my impulsive, Gryffindorish, ready-to-be-unemployed behaviour!_
> 
> _Unless that's something you're into. I could get into it, if you know what I mean._
> 
> _Gah! I'm really sticking my foot in it. Ignore any comments you've found inappropriate._
> 
> _This is what I mean: I want to live beside you, Harry Potter, as strange as it may look on paper. I think you're fit, and brilliant, and funny, and brave. I love that you've made the effort to come out of the protective shell of Geel, but also love how committed you are to the life you've made there._
> 
> _I know I've told you about how nursing Nana stunted my social life. Well, that means that I have the opportunity to basically start from scratch there. And I want to start it in Geel, with you. Kingsley will, of course, write a letter of reference for me to carry to the local constable's office, should I desire to continue my crime-fighting ways._
> 
> _Which I might. Or I might not. I might choose to be a tour guide for English Muggles instead. Somebody has been a great guide for me – and shown me the most astonishing and lovely sights! _
> 
> _Please do write soon, and let me know whether this idea is acceptable to you. If not, I'll write a second letter to Kingsley, grovelling for employment._
> 
> _With great fondness,  
>  Teddy R Lupin_

The response came via owl post.

> _Teddy Remus Lupin_  
>  12 Grimmauld Place  
> London  
> United Kingdom 
> 
> _15th September, 2028_
> 
> _Dear Ted –_
> 
> _I'm a bit gobsmacked, but thrilled. I'll see you at Christmas._
> 
> _Love, Harry_

**THE END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd actually never heard of Dymphna or Gheel prior to researching this story, so I've been rather excited to learn about it (and learn to read in Dutch while I'm at it)! Research sources include [Google Maps (hybrid)](http://maps.icordis.be/map/base/stratenplan.aspx?m=Geel#), Wikipedia articles on [Geel](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Geel), [Belgian Postal Codes](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Postal_codes_in_Belgium) and [the list thereof](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_postal_codes_in_Belgium#2000.E2.80.932999:_Antwerp), and [St Dymphna, ](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saint_Dymphna)[Google Translate](http://translate.google.com), ["St Dymphna"](http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/05221b.htm) in the Catholic Encyclopedia, [Saints.SQPN.com](http://saints.sqpn.com/saint-dymphna/), [Geel, Belgium: A Model of Community Recovery](http://faculty.samford.edu/~jlgoldst/), and [The Spirit of Gheel](http://www.spiritofgheel.org/about.htm).


End file.
